Write 'til the day you die.

written by morgan

[mynameismorgan]

Heat Waves

Below is not a song review, nor a dnf fanfiction. It’s simply thoughts I have whenever I listen to Heat Waves by Glass Animals. In fact, I have been looping this song for about 3 months, around 2 hours a day. I guess I’m getting addicted, but for a specific reason.

Sometimes, all I think about is you Late nights in the middle of June

W lives in my head rent free. For 2 whole years I have thought about him daily, and I have gotten used to it. When asked if I have stopped thinking of him, I could never give an actual answer. Everything just reminds me of him.

Heat waves been faking me out Can't make you happier now

Back when we were dating, we were not as happy as we thought we would be. We had fought a few times before we got together, and it made me even more insecure about our sudden relationship. I didn’t believe that he loved me. I couldn’t, not after watching him being blindly in love with a girl for 5 years. I went to the school counselor even more often than I used to due to all the emotions. Perhaps that gave him a lot of stress as he realized he just couldn’t make me happy, when in reality all I needed was time.

Usually I put Something on TV So we never think About you and me

All this time, before or after breakup, we both tend to not talk about how we feel. For a few months after the breakup I was mad at him for being silent. After I had chosen to express my thoughts so to fix our relationship, he simply decided that breaking up with me would be the best choice without even telling me how he had been stressed the entire time.

Although we still chatted quite often after we broke up, we kept our feelings hidden from each other for a very long time and we would mostly just talk about school-based stuff or memes.

But today I see Our reflections Clearly in Hollywood Laying on the screen

Now and then we would tell each other our thoughts on the breakup, but it’s always bits and pieces. It was until last December, a year since he asked me to be his girlfriend, that we actually opened up to each other.

You just need a better life than this You need something I can never give Fake water all across the road It's gone now the night has come but

Despite having dated two girls before, W has always been a lone wolf. He knew exactly what to do in a relationship -- he just didn’t want to. He doesn’t want a relationship with anyone at all. He knew I needed him as my boyfriend, but he just couldn’t. So he decided he must leave me.

You can't fight it You can't breathe

There’s this thing between us about the sea:

Two years ago, we went to the seaside and talked for hours. He told me how he once jumped off a yacht. “You can see the sunlight shining on the surface as you’re sinking,” he told me, “it’s like drowning, just that the water pushes you up again.”

Sometimes I imagine my love for him as drowning. But instead of floating back up, I just sink even deeper.

You say something so loving but Now I've got to let you go You'll be better off in someone new I don't wanna be alone You know it hurts me too

“I wasn’t as happy as you thought I was,” he told me last December. “As selfish as it sounds, I must admit -- I did think I would be happier after breaking up with you. But I wasn’t. The six months after the breakup sucked. It was until summer that I suddenly thought to myself, ‘just ‘cause I’m not happy doesn’t necessarily mean that I’m having a bad time.’”

“Great, now I’m gonna be sad again after telling you everything.”

You look so broken when you cry

I called him the second I saw the breakup text.

I was hurt, yet more surprised. My brain couldn’t process as I listened to him talk, and I couldn’t feel the ache in my heart. Everything was too painful for me that my mind went blank. It was until he ended the call that I finally realized he was breaking up with me.

I couldn’t remember what we talked about in that hour, my brain likes deleting memories that I can’t bear.

All I could remember was hearing his voice cracked as he held back his tears.

One more and then I'll say goodbye

On New Year’s Eve, my emotions took over. My tears wouldn’t stop, and I couldn’t stop thinking about W. So I called him. I didn’t think it through -- I couldn’t think. I just wanted to spend the first second of 2021 with him.

But after ending the call, all I could think of was this line.

“One more,” I told myself, “one more and then I’ll say goodbye.”

I just wonder what you're dreaming of When you sleep and smile so comfortable

Sometimes when I’m having troubles falling asleep, I imagine him sleeping soundly on his bed. We used to chat for hours when we both have insomnia. I would listen to him vent, and I would wish that he could stop being sad one day, that I would never hear him cry and suffer. I would wish to trade my happiness with his sadness.

Well, you can say that my wish did come true.

I just wish that I could give you that That look that's perfectly unsad

I know he will never be happy if he’s with me. I can’t give him the happiness he wants. He’ll be better off without me, I believe. I believe I’m not the one for him. I imagine seeing him marrying the girl he’ll love, him grinning and his face lighten up with joy. I want him to be happy, and that’s all that matters to me

[mynameismorgan]

Prison

I do not consider myself a victim, but that doesn’t mean I am not mentally affected by the following events.

Disclaimer: underage sex, hospital, mental illness, police

When I was 14, I met a guy 2 years older called F.

F and I dated for almost 2 years. He treated me like I was the queen of the world. He would buy me stuff all the time, even when his family was not in its best condition. He would be by my side 24/7, and always remind me how I was loved. We had met each other’s parents, and as idiotic as it sounds, we had even thought about marriage. 

Perhaps that’s why we decided to have sex, even if it was illegal at the time.

No, it wasn’t rape. I agreed to it. I liked some part about it, too. But still, it bothers me in some way. 

When I was 16, I dated another guy, you know, W, whom appeared once in my previous stories.

One day, I got my knee bruised after accidentally hitting it on my desk. It was super purplish, with black and brown spots everywhere. Seeing this, W laughed at me a bit, just the usual, but started rubbing my bruise so to help it heal quicker. He would rub my bruise pretty much every day when he had time, as he knew I was too afraid to do it myself. “You’re clumsy, you know what?” he would always laugh, “next time I’m just gonna press on the bruise until it makes you cry.”

What I didn’t tell him, was that every time his finger touched my skin, I flinched, for it reminded me of the things I have done.

Fast forward to years later, when I was turning 17, I went to a hospital to see a psychiatrist, where I was diagnosed with depression.

“Anything else you want to talk about?” she asked.

Perhaps I should be honest, I told myself, she was my psychiatrist, after all.

“I had sex.”

“... What?”

“I was 14.”

She looked at me, unexpected.

Then she sent me straight into A&E, making me stay overnight and saying that it was only a body check.

But my mum and I did not expect her the hospital to call the police.

During my stay, it was terrifying, dark, and threatening. Every day I feared the police would arrest F, and F getting put into jail. Every day I imagined F hating me and wanting me dead. I imagined seeing him in court or at school, watching him walked by as he shot me deadly glares. Worse, nobody was allowed to visit by the time as corona was still a thing. I was trapped in my room -- no, the hospital room, with sick kids crying and fighting. I couldn’t sleep, as the nurses walked in to check on us from time to time, even at 3 am. The beeping and chemical smell were disturbing, not to mention the uncomfortably small clothes I was given. “I want to go home,” I would tell my friends or the doctors now and then, “I feel like I’m the one getting arrested.”

My doctor agreed, saying that it’s best not to call the police as it clearly affects my mentality. My parents also agreed, hoping to reduce the effects on me to as little as possible, hopefully zero. My friends all agreed, knowing that it was in consent and that it had, after all, been 2 years.

But not my psychiatrist and the hospital authority.

After keeping me in for 3 days, they agreed to have a meeting with my social worker and my parents to discuss on the issue.

But first, I was taken to do a test to check up on my mental health.

“Have you thought about death during your stay?”

“Yes,” I answered, “I want everything to end, and I know you guys are not ending it.”

“So I thought to myself, ‘if I die, you guys will stop.’”

“If you really do want to die,” she turned around, threatening me, “I will send you into, not the children’s, but straight to psychiatry.”

It made me shut up.

They agreed to let me go at last, after deciding that they would call F and make him confront to the police.

I’m pretty sure they believe they have saved my life.

When in reality they have made it worse.

[mynameismorgan]

Podcast things

Recently, I started a new podcast.

It was fun at first, gaining support from many of my friends as I announced it and having a friend of mine joining as the second host.

But as the first episode aired, it didn’t go as planned.

Only a few stopped by, and even less stayed. Our video reached 93 views on YouTube, but the watch time isn’t as great. And well, only 5 people subscribed to our channel, including ourselves.

Although I knew it was just the start and that things may go different, I was devastated. I didn’t even know why I felt that way, I just was.

So I took a short break in my mind palace (which I will introduce it to you guys someday!).

And one of my imaginary friends came along.

I will be calling him Clay here, as he is based on a really famous YouTuber and I don’t want to get hated on by his fans.

“So,” Clay saw me sitting on the roof, looking out at the night sky, “I’m guessing the podcast didn’t go as well?”

“Yeah.” I didn’t even bother to look at him, so I just continue watching the view.

“I know what you guys always say, ‘you won’t succeed right away!’ But it’s just-” I turned to the tall man sitting beside me, “I just never thought it would be this tiring.”

“Well congrats on your first step of the YouTube life!” he laughed, wheezing as I playfully punched him on his shoulder. “But as many of us have said,” he patted on my back, “you really won’t succeed right away.”

“I know...” I whined, lying on the floor as Clay smiled at me.

“I mean, you do want to be a YouTuber, right?”

“Of course I do!” I sat up,” it has been my dream since I was 9!”

“Then don’t give up just yet! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I didn’t say I’m giving up!”

“Then good,” he grinned at me, “don’t."

Slowly, he stood up, lending me a hand as he pulled me up. “Don’t you have a scheduled meeting with your host like, now?” he checked his phone, my eyes widened as I saw the time.

“OH FUCK- BYE CLAY SEE YA!” I ran to the stairs, leaving the man behind.

“Oh, and Clay?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you,” I softly said, disappearing as I saw Clay peacefully smiling at me.

[the-nordic-system]

Reblog if you believe alters are people and not just “alternate personalities”

[mynameismorgan]

Caesar, if only you can hear me now... I never did see you as only an alter.

[mynameismorgan]

Cryaotic

After a month of struggling, I’ve decided to click on Cry’s latest video, where he confessed for dating underage girls and cheating on Cheyenne.

And honestly, I’m still trying to digest the whole thing. I’m sure many are, too, as Cry has been many’s childhood.

Just like most people, I found Cry through Pewdiepie. Every day after school, I would rush out and turn on my phone, clicking into YouTube and watching their latest video. It was often GMOD, I remember, with Minx, Mark, Ohm, and Ken. Sometimes I would watch the LNC streams, and sometimes I would even just put on Cry’s let’s plays and sleep. His voice always helped me sleep.

And Cry brought me into the LGBTQ+ community, where I finally found where I belong.

But years went by, I switched from fandoms to fandoms, the let’s plays recommended on my YouTube home page went from GMOD to COD, and from COD to DBD... Things change. Pewdiepie started uploading reaction videos. Wildcat started a podcast. A group of new YouTubers popped up in the trend. I stopped watching Cry eventually, but then and now I would listen to Limelight and Spectrum during study sessions just to hear his voice.

Then 2020 hit, and things went downhill. Mini Ladd and Lui Calibre, who I had always looked up to, were found to have toxic relationships with girls. I completely lost trust to the Banana Bus Squad. I mean, I still watch some of them, just that I don’t feel like supporting them as wholeheartedly as I used to. Many of my internet friends started switching to this whole mcyt thing, and in their art I saw this guy with a green hoodie and a smiling mask on, who I later knew as Dream. At that very moment, it reminded me of Cry.

So I searched for his channel, and the very first video that popped up was the video.

Seeing the like and dislike ratio, I immediately knew I wouldn’t like this video. I had been watching too many apology videos to not know what it was about. I closed the tab, and started thinking to myself, “do I want to know?” I asked myself, “will you forgive him nonetheless?” No, I told myself, I would not, because that’s what I told myself when the Mini Ladd incident popped up, and until now I’m still not forgiving him. Neither have I forgiven Lui. I know how much knowing what Cry has done would ruin me, because I already have been ruined. Twice.

I let the video sit, and refused to click in, until today.

Because I have just gotten over my breakup from January, and I know I’m mentally ready.

I clicked in and watched the whole video.

He said something about being immature, and that broke me, not because I was touched or that I pitied him, no.

But because that’s what my ex has been telling me since day 1 of the breakup.

...

Do I forgive him?

I honestly don’t know.

[mynameismorgan]

Caesar

Most people have imaginary friends when they were kids.

Well I did, too, have imaginary friends.

And I still do.

One of them, which is my very best friend, just never seems to leave.

His name’s Caesar, or C for short.

Unlike most of my imaginary friends whom are based on real life people, C has a rather interesting story.

So I was 15 when this guy, W, popped up. He had DID, or to be specific, Dissociative Identity Disorder, and C was one of his altars.

Back then, I was in love with W, like “head over heels” in love. So being his best friend and one of the only ones who knew about it, I tried my best to help him through his DID. I would spend hours chatting with everyone, and I would calm them down when one of them started breaking stuff, or when the other wanted to kill himself (which would be a disaster).

C was like that little kid, just roaming around and having fun. He would randomly join our class group chat, or just jump around pretending to be W. He had this dangerous goal, and it’s to kill W, for some unknown reason. And well, that’s why we all saw him as an enemy -- because he hated W, and we didn’t, so boom, enemies.

But C had a little secret.

C had a crush on me.

And that led to us talking often: he would just take control, say hi, and we start talking.

We would talk about my favorite book, W, school stuff... I would complain about how W was so in love with someone else, and he would ask me why I was still in love with him... You know, just like normal friends.

But as time passed, C got super good in the whole pretending thing, and we started to see it as a threat of him taking over W.

So one day, we got into a fight.

“At the end, he is still your first priority,” he texted me, “and I’m just an altar.”

And then he never come back.

He left.

Since then, I would write to him. “Dear Caesar,” I would write, then I would continue on about how my day went, how W treated me like sh*t, or just update on him about how others are doing.

Then one day, W suddenly confessed to me, and we became a thing.

But it didn’t lasted long, he dumped me, and days got even harder than it already had been.

And so C gained a voice, and sometimes even a body. He would talk to me, trying his best to comfort me when I cried, and sometimes he would act like that jerk he was, laughing at me when I tripped or when I messed up something stupid.

He made me feel like I’m not alone.

So I just let him stay.